


Daydream

by andrean182



Series: Not Exactly for Combat [16]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Dirty Thoughts, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, eventually, lol, onslaught is hot why no one pay attention to him uwu
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2018-09-27 21:23:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10050932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrean182/pseuds/andrean182
Summary: Onslaught daydreams about a certain quiet mech, in a good way for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *giggles excitedly*

The meeting went as usual. Megatron bragged about his awesome plan that would defeat the Autobots once and for all, Starscream bitched about Megatron’s plan, speaking his opinion very audibly that it sucked. Thundercracker facepalmed the entire time. Skywarp laughed his aft off when no one was looking. Soundwave was as silent as ever beside Skywarp.

Onslaught fought the urge to just get up and walk away from the room. The mission was quite important, if it was not to be launched anytime soon. Next to him, maybe a little too close, he could see Scrapper was trying to properly concentrate on his datapad, probably designing something. Across the table he saw Motormaster keeping his mouth in a straight line, watching the entire drama. Hook fell asleep on the table. Even Vortex got bored and stopped poking the medic.

Yes, it was like the usual meeting.

Huffing in annoyance, he lay back on the chair, hands on the armrests. His visor gleamed for a while, then dimmed again as he recalled what happened last night. Last night with Blast Off was a pleasant one, although they didn’t have the time to be more intimate; Vortex was still Vortex. And Brawl couldn’t stop whining about the _Victory_ _’_ s shooting range. Ons had told him firmly that the repair would begin next week because too much water was inside, but the tank was too hyperactive not to blow something up. So Onslaught dumped him on the beach and made him think that that one rock was mocking him.

The charge from last night still lingered, though, and it made a pleasant buzz in his frame. He looked around, no one was concentrating on Megatron and Starscream anymore, save Motormaster and probably Soundwave. No one really knew what was inside their Communication Officer’s mind. Except for the fact that he had a good-looking, well-polished blue boxy frame.

Ah, Soundwave. Onslaught’s mind wavered at the thought.

The TIC was quietly brilliant. He was one of the brightest minds in the Decepticon army. Silently, he figuratively knew everything. No wonder Megatron trusted him so much. Even after the truck came online in this pathetic little planet, Soundwave was quick to become a respectful command staff on the army on his mind. He had the wits, so trustworthy and ever obedient to whomever he followed. He was one picture of perfection. It was almost a shame that he chose to follow Megatron.

Ons’ visor dimmed, lips set in a smile behind his mask as the charge pleasantly travelled through his frame and his field wavered slightly. He looked at the tapedeck, he was doing something with his datapad, probably reviewing the meeting. In Ons’ opinion, today’s meeting was useless, a waste of time, but perhaps Soundwave was able to collect some info and write them down, no matter how useless they might be. Onslaught’s optics slowly followed the blue helm and that pristine white mask below the neutral red visor. What would Soundwave look like? Was he using the mask because of the same reason as him? Did he ever take his mask off?

He leant on the table as his optics drifted lower to the abdomen. Soundwave was a tapedeck, so he had to be smaller than he actually was. Where would all those mass go when he transformed? He had seen his alt mode, and it was even smaller than a human’s hand. His subspace must be so big. But in this root mode, he was a joy to look at. Those strong blue shoulder, the wide chest that housed his cassettes’ dock. How big was his dock? Could all of his cassettes fit in there? Were the glass and the rim of his dock sensitive to touch?

He hoped he could see lower, as the rest were hidden under the table.

Which brought another question, would Soundwave like to frag or be fragged?

He chuckled; his heavy voice and the slight tingle of his field made Scrapper turned to look at him. Onslaught ignored the questioning look the Constructicon leader gave him, and the excavator returned to his datapad. He snickered, looking at him from the corner of his optics.

Maybe the meeting was not a complete waste of time after all.

His visor dimmed more as he closed his optics. Soundwave was an ever-silent person, even more so than Blast Off. Was he submissive, or quietly dominant? Did he like to be told what to do, as he usually seemed, or inside did he want to be in power? The truck didn’t like to know much of someone he didn’t know, much less spy on them, but suddenly he felt a bit curious about the tapedeck.

He would be a joy to frag with. Ons wouldn’t object if Soundwave decided to use some ropes on him, or toys, or both. He was a mystery to him, and he valued someone who knew when to shut up and listen and when to speak up--maybe in the tapedeck’s case he listened a little bit too much. He spoke only when necessary. Would he be vocal when they were fragging, or holding back his moans and cries? Both cases, the truck would enjoy.

Fragging Soundwave would be good.

Onslaught lay back on the chair, hands above his crotch as to try to hold his pressurising spike. He tried to keep his field in check, at least to not touch Scrapper’s because he was sure it was radiating his horniness. He’d lay Soundwave on a berth, their difference in height was almost non-existent. He would grind their fields together, let him feel his lust, and take the other mask’s off, no matter whether the other want or didn’t want. He’d kiss him slowly at first, while his hands gripped the tapedeck’s sides—oh no, he’d kiss him roughly as his hands wandered to all places they could reach.

He would pry the other’s interfacing panel and sucked the spike within. Was his spike white or blue? Or some unique combination of the two? Either way, he’d suck the dick with gusto while Soundwave would writhe and buck his hips. He’d love to hear the cries and moans the other made while he enjoyed the spike. His one hand would probably be playing with his dripping valve. And when the other overloaded, he’d make sure that he saw how the other’s expression was in _bliss_ and that no spurt of transfluid escaped his lips. Oh yeah, that would do.

After, he’d pull the mech and toyed with him until he begged to be fragged. He would tease the other by slamming his own spike to the valve, only to back out again. Again and again until the tapedeck was panting and begging. He would then enter his valve, slowly caressing the internal nodes with his spike and enjoying the heat that enveloped his valve. The truck would frag him roughly, or in mock-softly, because why not? The mech would then be panting and whimpering and moaning like a slut anyway, begging for more and more. All the while Onslaught caressed his dock and kissed him, taking his breath away.

Maybe they would change position. Maybe Soundwave would want to go on top. Or maybe they would do it in a position in one silly human book about interfacing.

Now, the charge in his frame was begging to be released.

When Onslaught was finally overloading, perhaps after Soundwave himself overloaded a few times, he would go so _deep_ in that valve and fill the other mech with his transfluid. The sheets would be a big mess of Soundwave’s own fluid, but he wouldn’t care. He would keep his spike within until he was finally spent and sated. Perhaps later they would be ready for a second round.

Oh yeah, the thoughts were not helping him at all. He chuckled deeply, his spike refused to depressurise now, and his valve was leaking a little behind his panel. He would deal with those later.

Some sounds caught him, or rather, lack of them, and Onslaught opened his optics and saw that Megatron finally ended his audible discussion with Starscream. He was a bit surprised, though, that Soundwave was looking at him with his visor unusually bright, but after the tapedeck realised that his stare was being replied, he looked away in… embarrassment? There was no mistaking the dimmed, pale gaze of the mech’s visor.

Was Soundwave embarrassed? Or was he just tired? It wouldn’t be the first, though; he had once seen the tapedeck so tired his visor was very dim and pale.

The first possibility seemed unlikely, if not impossible. No one knew what was exactly in the TIC’s mind.

The meeting continued, if not a bit weird because somehow Soundwave was trying to avoid his gaze, and like any usual meeting, it ended with Megatron beat Starscream to the table (done) or the wall (also done), and the seeker went out of the room, followed by their leader’s end of discussion, and apparently the meeting was postponed until the next two months.

When it finally ended, Megatron was the first to get out. Onslaught sat up and straightened himself. Hook was talking to Motormaster about something; judging by the Stunticon leader’s amused faceplate, it would likely involve some upgrades or stories about the Stunticons in the medbay. Skywarp was talking to Thundercracker. Vortex looked at him once and nodded, then went out of the room. Onslaught looked around for a bit; he didn’t saw any cassettes. Maybe they had another thing to do?

Speaking of cassettes…

He caught sight of Soundwave looked at him with a bright visor like before. But when Onslaught turned to face Scrapper, who happened to be right in front of Soundwave from his vision, the tapedeck looked away and went out of the room.

 _Interesting_ , Onslaught thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, it laid an egg.  
> Also, I apologise for any OOC.

A few days later, Onslaught woke up feeling a little tired. The charge was still there, humming constantly in the background of his mind. He decided to hold it because it would help him kicking some Autobot aft later. Later.

After getting up and taking some energon, he went to the bridge to get some reports to analyse.

Only to run to Starscream who seemed in a hurry, carrying some datapads.

“Onslaught! Here, take these.” The Seeker pushed the pads to Ons’ hands without warning.

Before realising what happened, Onslaught took the datapad in hand, field projecting his surprise.

Starscream continued. “Give them to Soundwave in his room.” and he ran away.

Great, he had to do something he wasn’t supposed to do.

For one second, he was tempted to just throw the pads away. It wasn’t his business anyway. And that would teach the jet to finish what he started next time. But a quick look at the topmost datapad made him reconsider.

It was the meeting report from a few days earlier.

His mind wandered at the thought, and suddenly, the heat on his frame turned up a few notches. This was what Soundwave had written when he had been imagining… things about him.

Ah well, good things never lasted. Carrying the datapads, he walked to the communication officer’s room.

* * *

A quick knock on the door revealed Rumble on the other side.

“Hey, Ons! What do you want?” the small cassette cockily greeted him.

Onslaught looked down. He ignored the remark and instead asked. “Is Soundwave here?”

“Yeah. Boss is inside. He’s burying himself in datapads.” Rumble replied, opening the door fully. “You’re gonna give all that for him too?”

“I am.”

“Well, his room is just at the end of that hallway. Dunno why he’s not taking his office today.” Rumble shrugged while Onslaught entered the room and went straight to the said hallway.

He knocked at the door. “Commander Soundwave, this is Onslaught.”

Instead of someone opening the door, a small monotone yelp came from inside, followed by some sound, like someone was scrambling his things. Weird, the truck thought. It was well known that Soundwave was a very clean and tidy mech. Although, this was his room, so probably the truck was interrupting something?

The sounds were gone and the door then opened with a quiet swoosh. Onslaught came in, not at all bothered by it. It was not his business anyway.

His thoughts appeared to be true when he got inside the room, and caught sight of Soundwave with his abnormally bright visor, his suspiciously clean desk with a console turned off, and a few datapads were clattered on his berth. Soundwave stared at him, and he, aside from the bright visor, looked innocent and oblivious, as if he was trying to ignore what happened before. Rumble said he was working with datapads, didn’t he?

Onslaught chose to ignore everything and walked over to his desk. “Commander, here are some datapads Starscream was meant to give to you, but instead he dumped these on me.”

Soundwave nodded, but when he spoke, his voice seemed to be rougher than his usual monotone. “Datapads: put on desk. Soundwave: will look at them later.”

The truck put the pads on the desk, then noticed that it had been cleaned abruptly and recently. Soundwave tried to make it less visible that he had been doing something. Onslaught looked at Soundwave, who was looking at the pads, then spoke. “I will be going back.” And he turned to the door.

“Soundwave: thanks Onslaught.” Ons heard Soundwave roughly said before he closed the door.

There was something weird about the tapedeck.

* * *

“Here is the report of my last mission.”

Onslaught took the datapad Blast Off was giving him, then read it shortly. He was glad to be in his office now, no annoying Seeker and a cranky, less-than-sorry medic around him. Blast Off’s presence was also an added bonus.

He slowly read the pages. Blast Off was capable and resourceful as usual. He was one of the best things happened to him after Starscream put them in this pathetic excuse for a gestalt. The shuttle had never changed since they meet for the first time in Kaon, before the war.

“You made it painfully obvious that you were with Vortex for the mission.”

The shuttle snorted. “I prefer having a quiet human who doesn’t touch anything inside me to having Vortex who touches everything he can around me.”

Onslaught chuckled a little. “Where is he now?”

“I don’t remember.” Blast Off lay back on the chair across the table. “Last time I saw him he was with Brawl.”

Probably doing something stupid, Onslaught thought. Like blowing the ocean floor apart.

“Also, I overheard that Megatron is planning to build our own base apart.”

The truck perked up at that. Megatron was planning to get them their own base? He put down the pad, then lay forward on the table and looked at the shuttle. “Explain.”

Blast Off crossed his arms. “I was in the medbay this morning when I heard Megatron was saying something to Scrapper and Scavenger. Either they didn’t know I was there or they chose to ignore me. It was about some construction project in the middle of a desert in Arizona, western United States, if I recall correctly.” He sighed. “Then I heard something about it’s for the Combaticons and the _Victory_ is getting overcrowded. Let’s just hope that the Stunticons won’t get one.”

“Hmm.” If this were true, then they could have a facility only for themselves. Not only it would increase productivity, it would give them more space around themselves and for their supplies, and hopefully separate adequately-spaced quarters. “Did he say any specific date?”

“No, he did not.” Blast Off replied. “But I think we are safe to assume that it will be three to four months from now.”

Onslaught nodded and was about to say something when Vortex banged the door and entered the room. “Hey, Blasty! Hey, Ons!”

He sighed, knowing Vortex must have something to ask. “What is it?”

Vortex pulled up a chair and sat on it. “So, remember about that yellow Autobot that you despise so much? The one who’s even yellower than Swindle? I bet you wanna kick his aft to the second moon. You know, he’s a bit pretty if I say so myself. And—”

“Get to the point, Vortex!”

“So, he managed to get captured and is now in the brig. You hate him, don’t you, Onslaught? You wouldn’t want to miss a chance to teach him some lessons, would you?”

Red visor stared exasperatedly to another red visor. Vortex casually leant on the chair he sat on, hands on the desk, his rotors vibrating slowly. Onslaught knew what was in the copter’s mind, no matter how had he tried to cover it.

“If you want to play with him, the answer is no.”

The helicopter fidgeted, but kept his cool. “Aww, come on, Ons! He’s helpless now. His ugly Autobots won’t be there to protect him. And he’s all yours.”

Beside him, Blast Off inched away.

“No, Vortex. Even if I wanted to punch him in the face, we still had to wait for orders. Go ask Megatron if you want.”

Vortex sighed, his rotors going still. “’Kay fine. Too bad, it’s a very nice opportunity. You’re wasting it away.” He stood up and walked away, groping Blast Off’s shoulder in the process which earned him a growl from the shuttle. “If you change your mind, I’ll be with Brawl.”

Onslaught facepalmed and sighed on the table.

“For one moment, I nearly believed that he was going to accept your answer.” Blast Off spoke again. “And he thinks Swindle is yellow.”

“You know he won’t. I’m sure he’s on his way to the brig now. And he has just made that up.”

The truck stood up and took two midgrade cubes from the compartment on the wall. He gave one to Blast Off, who accepted it, and leant on the wall beside the shuttle, who twisted his chair to face his commander. Vortex was a bother, but he had his abilities. And as long as he was useful both to him and Megatron, it was better to have him around, no matter how hard the helicopter was trying to make it tough.

Brawl and Swindle were much easier to endure.

Onslaught opened his mask and sipped his energon slowly. It would definitely easier to have Soundwave under his command. He was very capable and should not be hard to deal with.

He knew what chain of command meant.

“You seem distracted, Onslaught.” Blast Off spoke to him, making him turn to look. His field was radiating his confusion when it ground with his. “Is there something that bothers you, aside from Vortex?”

“Hmm?” Was he distracted? No, he wasn’t. He was almost never distracted.

Wait, was he thinking about Soundwave? He sipped his drink again and trying to hide his surprise. Why was he thinking about Soundwave?

“No, Blast Off. I was just thinking about the possibility of having our own base. It would be good to have, wouldn’t it?”

Blast Off gave him a sceptical look.

Onslaught sighed. “Don’t you feel better about the prospect of having our own base?”

“I do.” The shuttle replied, sipping his own drink. “But you’ve been staring at the cube for two minutes now and smiling suspiciously.”

“I have?” he chuckled slowly, if not nervously. He was lucky that it was Blast Off who had caught him off like that. As sceptical and critical the shuttle was, he was never the one to mock or spread gossip all over the ship. “I must be keener on the base plan than I thought I was.”

Wisely, the shuttle kept his words to himself. Onslaught didn’t know whether he’d kick him out of the room or he’d have a breakdown here. Either way, both were unexpected, and they both knew that he wouldn’t do that anyway.

“So, I see that you’re making plans now, even before the object of your plan hasn’t even realised yet.”

Ons shrugged, glad for the distraction from the real topic. “What can I say, I’m a strategist. I strategise.”

“So you do.” Blast Off chose to ignore the whole conversation, and instead asked the new one. “Is there any new mission for me? I would like to be in the orbit for a while.”

The truck crossed his hands over his chest. “Not yet. If Megatron is making a plan for a construction, it would be safe to assume that no new missions are to be given. I can also say that the last meeting is an even worse waste of time than usual. He is too occupied to think of another raid or attack to the Autobots. But it is still a possibility; it would be better if we don’t get too distracted.”

“Too bad. I’d like to get away from Vortex for a few whiles.” Blast Off finished his energon and put the empty cube aside on the desk.

“If you want to go to the Earth’s orbit, just ask Soundwave. Also, make sure that you tell him what’s your purpose, no matter how silly it is.” The truck joked.

“You try to change into a shuttle and have Vortex on your insides, then tell me how long you can last.” Blast Off said in an offended tone, but he playfully nudged the truck’s leg.

Onslaught laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to learn Soundwave's speech patterns .-.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soundwave's POV... sort of.

Swindle, Onslaught had learned, was the most ‘normal’ of all of them.

Well, none of his gestalt fell into ‘normal’ category for usual Cybertronian, but Swindle was the closest to it.

Blast Off was an introvert, if not antisocial. It had taken him forever, a lot of fragging, and numerous off-world missions to get into the shuttle’s inner circle. Brawl was too loud and overactive. He couldn’t even stay away from explosion for just one day. Vortex was… well… Vortex. That pretty much explained the helicopter. He himself was a practical perfectionist, and he was aware of it, not that he minded being one. It meant that everything he did was perfect. Or, most of the time, when his idiotic teammates didn’t ruin everything.

But Swindle, Swindle was the most ‘normal’, despite his greed, desires, pragmatisms, and sometimes impulsiveness.

So, he wasn’t too surprised when Swindle said he was having some… romantic affairs with Scavenger. Onslaught doubted it would last long, but he also doubted his doubt, seeing how Swindle could be so persuasive. If he really liked him, then it must have some reason. But love, from that he knew, was a lot more complicated. If one loved someone else, he would still love him even when the reason was gone. Weird emotions were weird.

“Just make sure you take responsibility for whatever you do.” He said to the jeep when they were in their common room, sans Vortex.

“But, why Scavenger?” Brawl asked from the sofa. “He’s so… green.”

“Thank you for stating the obvious, Brawl.” Blast Off spoke to him. Brawl kicked his leg.

Blast Off was typing something on the console earlier when Swindle and Brawl came in, talking about something and it then became about Swindle. The jeep was then forced to confirm that he had some romantic affairs with Scavenger. Onslaught had been called for whatever reason and it ended as what Brawl called as a team meeting, no matter how often the truck denied it. The lack of Vortex was not an important issue, welcomed even.

Onslaught knew, if he got himself distracted here, the chances were high of him being questioned like Swindle earlier. He had been mortified when he found out that he had been thinking about their Communication Officer these few days, no matter if he had let go of the charge with Blast Off—or, fragged the shuttle into unconsciousness, not quite literally. He was sure that it would only be temporary, though. He had only fragged Blast Off this night and there was an entire week to forget about him.

“Fuck this!” Brawl then said excitedly, “I’m getting a Constructicon myself!”

Sighing, Onslaught crossed his arms and lay his back to the wall near the console, annoyance in his field. “No, Brawl. No one is getting a Constructicon for anyone.”

“But, Swindle got one.” He whimpered—no, protested.

“I didn’t get one. Blast Off didn’t get one. And you’re not getting one. One is enough.”

“I won’t be sharing him for the rest of the team.” Swindle glared at him, as if he was offended.

The truck sighed, exasperated. “I didn’t say he is to be shared amongst the team,” no matter how attractive he was. “but one Constructicon is enough.” Then he looked at the jeep. “Swindle, I’m not the one to deny you, but I expect you not to make him a reason for not doing what you’re supposed to do. He shall not be interfering with your duty or missions.”

“Okay, Ons. I promise not to.” The jeep leant into the sofa, feeling a bit better now that their Commander was accepting his little affair.

Blast Off, instead, snorted. “Like you’re sure you’ll not be shared amongst his team.”

“You don’t know, Blast Off.” Swindle chuckled. “I wouldn’t mind. At all.”

Stupid Constructicons.

“Nonetheless,” Onslaught continued. “I thought you were bringing him here to talk.”

The jeep fiddled his finger. “He’s out in a mission. I don’t know what it is; he didn’t tell me.” He then looked up. “It’s like you care, Ons.”

“I want to tell him not to be a bother.” He snorted.

“Whatever, I’m not getting involved in this.” Blast Off said, then continued typing.

Brawl, instead, stood up and pulled him. “Anyway, let’s party, Swin! You finally got laid! …or, whatever the human term is.” then they both went out of the room.

Onslaught shook his head in annoyance, then went back inside his room.

* * *

Soundwave had been shocked, then enjoyed himself, then got horny.

Whether Onslaught didn’t know about his telepathic ability or he just didn’t care, he didn’t know. And frankly, he didn’t care much about that. Although, he wished he hadn’t peeked into the Combaticon leader’s mind to find it was completely different than he usually thought, or when they happened to meet.

After the incident, he had been thinking about the truck, mortified but aroused at the same time. The mental images had been too vivid for him to ignore, much less to forget. They had changed his view of the Combaticon leader in a weird way that he had never thought before. He had seen a lot of other bot’s wild imaginations about him, either him being fragged by them or him fragging them. They also made him feel mortified before, but he got over it a few days later because they hadn’t thought about him again... mostly because they had been embarrassed and avoided him. But Onslaught, he hadn’t avoided him, hadn’t stopped thinking about him, he continued to act normal... on the outside at least.

That one time when Soundwave was walking down the hallway and passed the console room with its door open, he saw Onslaught, copying something to a datapad, probably some mission info. And the truck had been thinking about him, again, this time the truck was bent over a desk, fragged roughly, with his hands cuffed.

Soundwave had been shocked, again. Who knew Onslaught also liked being fragged? He thought with that frame type and personality, he would always prefer to be the one who was on top. He also couldn’t deny that he got aroused by the mental image for the second time. His spike pressurised itself behind its cover and his valve began to leak. He looked away in embarrassment and walked away, not realising he had stopped in the middle of the hallway, and tried to dismiss what he had seen. Fortunately, the truck was so ‘busy’ he didn’t recognise Soundwave walked behind him.

Unfortunately, he got so horny until his mind began to think that Onslaught was just _hot_ , to put it simply.

Like Megatron, Onslaught had a very arousing voice—for him at least. His voice was deep, baritone, and he was just so damn handsome. Soundwave had been embarrassed when he found out that he had been checking the truck out, collecting some images (even some unmasked Onslaught before the War) and voice samples on his console. And he was enjoying himself when the truck had _actually_ knocked on his room’s door. He instantly panicked, his field became erratic, and he swept his desk quickly from spilt energon, then threw his datapads onto his berth before sending the command for the door to open and allowing Onslaught to enter while trying not to seem suspicious.

He wasn’t so sure he left no mark; he hoped the truck didn’t suspect anything.

He felt a little heat tingled when he heard Onslaught’s voice talking directly to him. “Commander, here are some datapads Starscream was meant to give to you, but instead he dumped these on me.” He fought so hard to keep his field and his lust within under control.

Soundwave’s legs squirmed under the desk. He gulped, trying not to sound weird when he spoke. “Datapads: put on desk. Soundwave: will look at them later.”

Onslaught bent over to put the datapads, and Soundwave cringed behind his mask when he could read that the truck felt a bit confused about him and the desk. He wasn’t so sure he cleaned it properly, and it made him feel uncomfortable. He tried to put up the look and looked at the pads instead.

“I will be going back.” Onslaught told him again, and when Soundwave looked up to him, he was already walking to the door.

The tapedeck hesitated, but the charge inside his frame forced him to. “Soundwave: thanks Onslaught.” He said before the truck fully closed the door.

He held back some giggles and sighed, relieved when he was finally alone.

He opened the folder that contained Onslaught’s photos and voices again. After he had listened and looked at them, _just once more_ , he deleted them embarrassedly.

He hoped he could get over it soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn I forgot to update this.  
> Not much action in this chapter, though.

Onslaught _hated_ it when his plan didn’t work.

Well, it wasn’t about his prediction about that construction project. His prediction that there would be no missions turned out to be wrong after all, and it was just a low priority. But because his gestalt, particularly _Vortex_ , ruined his plan.

The damn helicopter was now running wildly on the battlefield, shooting everyone he liked when Onslaught had ordered him to stay as cover, in private and team meeting, multiple times, _emphasised_ it, but the copter still ignored it and do whatever he wanted. In some other missions before, it was fine. But in this mission, it was _not_.

Onslaught bit back a snarl as he tried not to shout at Vortex to get back to the air and engage those Autobot fliers, to prevent them from shooting anyone on the ground. He walked to the Protectobot leader, who was exchanging punches with Dead End, optics fixated on him. He had thought of him as his nemesis, an abomination created just to mock him. The truck also caught view of Blast Off behind a tree with his sniper, aiming for certain yellow Autobot the truck didn’t have time to deal with.

At the sight of him, Hot Spot turned. He tossed Dead End away like he was just playing with him and walked to the Combaticon, gun in hand.

The Combaticon smirked behind his mask; this was going to be fun.

* * *

Soundwave couldn’t bring himself to turn from the medbay camera feed.

No, he couldn’t read the bots’ mind when he saw them through recording; he had to be face-to-face with the subject to do that. It wasn’t what the Combaticon leader thought that making him so fixed on the medbay’s camera feed, but just the Combaticon leader himself.

Soundwave took a sip from his drink. Having been the one with the least damage, the Constructicons had released him from the medbay after a quick check. And after that he went straight to the security room to check for any damage, missing equipment or files, or any activities that might happen when the _Victory_ was almost empty.

He was glad that he managed to save Onslaught’s life back on the battlefield earlier. He also managed to bring him to Hook’s care enough to stabilise him. But he was a bit confused at what Hot Spot’s was thinking earlier. Even when he had the Combaticon cornered and weakened, he didn’t mean to kill him. He didn’t want to kill him. Like there was some kind of friendly rivalry between the two, one that the TIC was sure Onslaught didn’t feel.

Or, what he thought Onslaught didn’t.

However, he was relieved when the truck’s damage was fixed and Hook said he was stable. It was also a bit intriguing that his gestalt was there before the truck woke up. Blast Off had been at his side for four hours straight after Hook was finished at him, up to now, alternating between looking at the truck and reading a datapad he took at one point. Brawl was anxious, he saw, the tank was pacing back and forth in Ons’ recovery room. Vortex looked bored and didn’t care, but he saw the helicopter had been softly caressing the truck’s arm when no one was there, as if he cared. Soundwave should find out about that later. And Swindle had simply stayed and made sure that the truck was comfortable.

He had never seen such a rare sight. Or perhaps, he had never _bothered_ to see.

He always thought that the Combaticons were ignorant of each other; it was no secret that they were forced to be a gestalt after all. Having some strangers inside your head would not be a pleasant experience if you’d never gotten used to it. He knew they didn’t like each other—because ‘hate’ was a strong word—at least they simply care about each other because they see it’d give them some benefits. There were always some motives behind their interactions.

Soundwave didn’t know if what he was seeing now had some motives behind it.

Because, really, Ons was their ‘leader’ who had always dominated them. It was only logical that they were happy—er, glad, that he was dead, right? They’d be finally free from the dominance and could do whatever they could.

But, turned out to be wrong.

If anything, Blast Off seemed to care about him, despite how much he acted like he didn’t. Why would he be staying for so long? The shuttle wouldn’t be staying for so long if it wasn’t because of some feelings. It was respect, maybe, or honest care or liking, Soundwave wasn’t sure, but the shuttle had been quite close to the truck and they had never told anyone about their interactions. If it was liking, or even, love, the shuttle would have been watching over Onslaught on the battlefield earlier, making sure nobody attacked him. Or, even doing what Swindle was doing. And Soundwave didn’t like to admit that he’d be a bit jealous.

Swindle had been making sure that the truck was comfortable. He gripped his leader’s hand for a few seconds, and then let go. He arranged the cables and tubes around the truck so that they wouldn’t hinder him from sitting up later, and then the jeep left not long after that. Swindle had always had some motives behind his actions; he had never done something if it didn’t give him some benefits. He was a merchant after all, it was in his name.

It wouldn’t give him any by doing those things to the truck.

And talking about Swindle, Soundwave saw him in the next room, doing things he shouldn’t really be doing to Scavenger. Soundwave internally cringed, and put the feed away and continued observing.

Brawl cared, obviously, judging by how he paced near the berth. But really, he always cared about anything, and he left it away at the next moment when he was done with it. So it left him easy to analyse.

However, Vortex was weird. Even when he looked at his personality. A psychopath would never do anything if they didn’t feel like it, e.g. it didn’t provide fun for them. The helicopter showed that he didn’t care, telling Brawl to get out of the room and chase some shark or blow some cliff, anything that would amuse him.

But when no one else was there earlier at one point, when Blast Off was out to get some datapad to read, he caressed Ons’ hand softly. He didn’t say anything, and his back was facing the camera when he did it, so Soundwave couldn’t see his faceplate. Him caring about Onslaught was a possibility, but, it could also be that he was simply waiting the moment he died, or dying, at least. Some sick mind the copter had, perhaps he was thinking about the things he could do to the truck right now. Soundwave wasn’t so sure. Vortex had always been secretive about anything he did and who knew about it, only less personal things he let people know. Soundwave didn’t know his exact interaction with his leader, aside from Vortex being annoying.

They also reacted differently when Hook told them about Onslaught’s condition after the crane was finished with the repairs. Blast Off looked indifferent, if he wasn’t smiling behind his mask as indicated by his purple visor; Soundwave wasn’t quite sure he was relieved. Brawl sighed happily. Vortex was glad… that it meant he could annoy the truck more, he said. And Swindle was relieved.

All the things that defied everything he knew about the Combaticons.

And, he hated to admit, he was rather jealous he couldn’t be in the same room, watching over Onslaught. But at least he could watch over him from here.

He was glad somebody watched over him from there, though.

And, he had some other data to analyse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There supposed to be a scene where Ons and Hot Spot fight each other, but it sucks, so I decided to remove it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a few Dutch lessons and then I found that the Dutch word for 'us' is 'ons' aND I COULDN'T STOP GRINNING
> 
> Ik heb een verhaal voor ons over Ons :v

Onslaught felt a lot better than when he was _not_ in the medbay.

Hook was a very capable medic, and it was clear from the way he did repairs and how he managed things as well. It was his personality that made Onslaught cringed.

He had learned, even giving him silence wouldn’t free him from the crane’s sharp words and judgement and the colourful curses he often said, no matter how long he kept silent and sighed from reacting. The medic might be the one in charge, but couldn’t he just shut up?

However, he was very capable.

Onslaught walked to the command centre, hoping that Thundercracker would be there to give him the Seekers’ revised battle plan. The Decepticons had lost the last battle so embarrassingly, so with revising their battle tactics, they hoped they could avoid the same mistake. The truck wanted to do the same, having nearly been killed by the Protectobot leader, although he was sure Hot Spot would never kill him. The Protectobot leader did give him some damages worthy of patches, though, including his chest, his leg (although it was easy to repair, Hook said the patch could be opened tomorrow), and he also cracked his visor and mask, although getting new ones wasn’t so hard.

What a persistent Autobot.

The door to the command centre opened and he got in. There weren’t many Decepticons there. Most of them were still in the medbay, or in their quarters to recover. Thundercracker, unfortunately, wasn’t there. He knew the Seekers got beaten by the Aerialbots plus Skyfire, but he didn’t think the damage would be so extensive.

He sighed, and about to get back to his room when his optics landed on Soundwave on the main console.

The tapedeck was also looking at him with that bright visor of his.

That weird feeling about the tapedeck came to him again. Why was he feeling like Soundwave was everywhere, watching him with that curious bright visor? It seemed like he knew everything he did. Onslaught hesitated, but walked closer to him to try to make the TIC talk.

“Commander.” He nodded as he walked to him, field radiating calmness despite his mind planning something. “I would like to thank you for saving me a few days earlier.”

Soundwave nodded back and replied, his voice a smooth monotone. “Thank you: unnecessary. Saving Onslaught: required.”

“Oh?” Onslaught’s visor brightened in mock interest. He wouldn’t be far from practical use, he knew it. “How so?”

The truck saw him squirmed a bit, looking away. He’d be lying if this wasn’t the most expressive display from Soundwave to him yet and he was intrigued.

When the tapedeck answered, he sounded unsure, like he was hiding something. “Cannot afford to lose another combiner. Onslaught: smart, resourceful. Unreplaceable.” He looked at the truck. “Appreciated.”

Onslaught snorted. “It’s nice to be appreciated.” He knew there were other things that Soundwave probably wasn’t allowed to say. Nevertheless, he faked a thankful nod and gestured to the door after deciding it wasn’t the correct time to investigate.

“Thundercracker: left something for Onslaught.” Soundwave said before Onslaught left, making the truck stopped in his way and turned.

“Oh?”

The tapedeck took something in the drawer next to the console. “Thundercracker: left datapad for Onslaught.” He stretched his hand to give it.

Taking the datapad, Onslaught nodded and left the room.

* * *

The calculation was correct, really.

Blast Off facepalmed, frustrated. How could the result be a negative irrational when he had calculated and double-checked it? Surely a distance between here and that star couldn’t be minus e0,628900 megaparsec, it was ridiculous. He fiddled with the stylus. Either his data were wrong or his calculation was.

Unless…

A thought flashed itself on his mind and he looked at the variables again. Had he missed the dark matter expansion possibility? Or gravitational lensing effect—wait, no, that wasn’t it.

Well, he had included it—the former variable. It was there as that wiggly turbofox-drawn thingy as Brawl had said. So, what had gone wrong?

He lay back on the backrest of his chair and sipped his drink. His desk might be small, and shared with Onslaught in their quarter, but it was all they could get. The _Victory_ was really getting cramped. Onslaught was right; getting a new base could make them all more productive and private.

He looked back to the datapad. It wasn’t exactly a priority one on his to-do list or a mission, but it helped him pass the time.

His chest had been damaged by some unknown shot and it had been patched, but Hook said it was so near his spark that a little more firepower would make him unconscious for three to six weeks. So, the crane had confined him to his quarter for a week and off-duty for one more. That meant no mission, no transforming, no doing reports. And no transforming meant no flying. And no flying meant Vortex. He tried to defy that by transforming in the shooting range when no one was there, but he got dizzy so easily until the majority of his systems went offline, plus his chest hurt after that.

He couldn’t decide which one was worse, being unable to transform or being close to Vortex for three weeks.

The helicopter had gotten more severe damage, though, but that didn’t mean he’d obey what Hook said. And Blast Off didn’t really care. If the copter got into a trouble until he got berth-bound and unconscious, it would be a blessing.

Brawl’s threads on his right shoulder were damaged, and although it was not too severe, surprisingly, the tank took Scrapper’s advice of just staying in his room. Honestly, Brawl in his room without whining was somewhat a miracle. He wasn’t alone, though, Swindle was also there and Scrapper also told him to stay in his room, so maybe the two were doing something inside. Perhaps playing monopoly, Swindle’s favourite Earth game, if not fragging.

Onslaught had recovered, much to the shuttle's thankfulness. The amount of damage on the truck’s shoulder and helm was alarming until he was unconscious for one week. At least his helm was no longer showing the effects of damage, but not so with the large patch on his chest. But unlike the rest of them, Onslaught couldn’t just stay put in their room doing nothing. He told him he had reports to write and tactics to revise, no matter Blast Off urged him to just lie on the berth for one day.

To be honest, he was concerned about the truck’s health.

He put his hands above his head. Because he was alone, he could let his concern and frustration to fill his widely radiating field. Maybe Hook was right; the blast made his system work a bit harder than usual, resulting in frequent headaches and him being easily tired.

Okay, at least that didn’t mean he couldn’t do anything productive. He looked back at the datapad and run the calculation again.

…only to run into the same result.

He lay back on the backrest in frustration and threw the stylus onto the desk. “Primus-fragging-dammit!”

What was it that he had wrong?!

Blast Off sighed and buried his face in his arms. He really needed some distractions.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new month brings new chapter lol  
> warning: bruticus being adorable... as adorable as a decepticon combiner can be

“Here’s your ration, Boss? Busy again?” Frenzy showed up at the door, bringing with him a cube. “You even forgot to take your own ration.”

The tapedeck looked down. “Work: required to be done.” He took the cube. “Cube: appreciated.”

“Boss, that plan thingy Megs told you to review, you’ve done it?” asked Frenzy.

Soundwave shook his head. “Negative. Soundwave: will look at it later.”

Frenzy shrugged. “Well, can’t say I didn’t warn you.” Then he went back to main room, only to stop at the door. “Anyway, Megs wants you to do some reconnascion, reconsnais.., er, what’s the word again?”

Soundwave looked at him, then chuckled softly. “Reconnaissance.”

“Yeah, that. Says that the Autobots’ve been calm or keeping a secret or something. Don’t forget, ‘kay?” Then he closed the door.

He was glad for the work he had to do today. They kept him busy today so that he could focus. He hadn’t seen Onslaught these few days, and he began to forget whatever dirty things he knew about him.

Though that didn’t mean he stopped seeing the Combaticon leader in a different way.

He had to be careful of that.

He flipped the datapad after marking it done and began writing anew on the console for the plan.

Megatron said that he would like to see it before agreeing to it and informing Onslaught. They will hold a meeting later after Onslaught acknowledged it and talked about it with the rest of the Combaticons. The schematics hadn’t been created for now, it would be created later after the Combaticons agreed and revised the plan, if there would be any revisions.

But today, he was busy reviewing the last meeting with the command staff. Onslaught hadn’t been able to attend; which Soundwave didn’t know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. The meeting had been about the improvement of previous tactics, and continued by the plan of a base for the Combaticons because, apparently, Megatron said why not? Scrapper continued that it was because the _Victory_ was becoming too overcrowded and there was less and less space for them, though. Soundwave agreed with that, no matter how much he loved his cassettes, he would like to get them their own room, especially Rumble and Frenzy, because they couldn’t stop messing with his datapads, even in his own room.

Another reason was that, although Onslaught hadn’t reported, the Combaticons would function better if they were given enough space around themselves. It was merely an observation, though, but it would beneficial if it proved to be effective. The Combaticons were really defensive about their personal spaces. Until now, the Combaticons had proven themselves to be loyal and useful enough to get their own base of operations.

To be honest, Soundwave thought that it was just a reason for Megatron to get rid of them after their attempt to overthrow him, or at least to give them some distance.

Soundwave lay back on the chair and checked his report. After he corrected some mistakes and fixed some sentence structures, he copied it to a datapad and flipped it over. He’d send it to Megatron tomorrow.

He sipped his ration and allowed his field to roll over a bit, he still had more works to do.

* * *

Bruticus kicked the closest rock slowly, nudging it to move.

He was bored. His components were bored. Heck, even his components’ components were bored.

At least, his right foot was happy these days. He thought it was because one of Devastator’s components caught his optics, which one was it, he didn’t exactly know, though.

Megatron didn’t tell him to combine, his components _wanted_ to combine. He didn’t mind being awoken on a beach with no battle happening, he just didn’t like that there was nothing he could here out here. There was also no reason for their components to combine. Boredom, perhaps?

Sitting on the sand, he took a small reddish Earth creature onto his hand, careful not to crush it. It was adorable, he thought, it would make a fine warrior with those big strong claws, ready to punch and crush those who attacked it. He didn’t know much of this planet’s ecosystem, but he was sure this creature would be on top of the food chain in this area.

What was its name? He looked his components’ databanks and found a match. It was a crab, and apparently, his left foot liked to play with it. Lots of it.

The crab tried to crush his finger, but even when it did, it barely left a scratch. It still stung a bit, though.

“Crab need to grow.” He said, looking at it trying to set itself free. “Crab need to grow stronger. Then crab can hurt Bruticus.”

He didn’t care about the fact that he was fascinated by some pathetic planet’s wildlife. _Knowledge is power, curiosity must be cherished_ , one of his components had told him once.

Maybe he could summon a huge swarm of crab to destroy the Autobots? One crab wouldn’t do much damage, but a whole lot of them had to do them some damage. Especially on someone as weak as the Autobots.

It was an amusing thought, but it wouldn’t happen.

“Bruticus: desist.” A monotone, somehow amused voice was suddenly heard beside him. He didn’t remember he was with someone.

He looked down and found a blue and white mech with a Decepticon emblem on his chest. The giant snorted, acknowledging the mech.

…err, who was his name again? Voice-something?

_It’s Soundwave._

He put down the crab and stared at the other mech. “What Soundwave doing here?”

“Objective: unimportant.” Soundwave sat on the side of the cliff beside him, fans whirring loudly. He appeared to be tired. “Same thing goes to Bruticus.”

The combiner kicked the rock again slowly. Somehow, one of his components felt funny, like amused or something. “Bruticus not know. Components want to combine. Battle not happening.”

“Battle not happening, affirmative.” Soundwave replied him, heads up to the sky. “Reason not apparent, also.”

Bruticus tore his stare away from him, hand playing on the sand. Somehow it was getting more attractive. He busied himself with the sand whilst not trying to look at the other mech. “What Soundwave doing? Soundwave is tired.”

A small sigh escaped the much smaller mech’s vocaliser. Soundwave then looked at him. Bruticus didn’t know whether the rumours about this mech being able to read another’s thought was true or not, but now it gave him some clues, if not answers. There was something rendering him uncomfortable behind that gaze.

Bruticus ignored the feeling and instead looked back at him, trying to be nonchalant.

Soundwave made a funny noise, then looked at the sea. “Soundwave: was spying on the Autobots. Got spotted. Escaped. Ravage: is not returning until now.”

“Ravage still spying Autobots?”

“Affirmative.” He said. “Ravage was not spotted.”

Looking back at the sea, Bruticus tried to understand what had the other mech been speaking about. His rotors spun a little on his left arm, then settled back and went silent. Well, at least his boredom decreased. The sun was still high in the sky, there was no cloud, nothing interesting happened. Even the sea was silent as if it was ignoring him. It didn’t help that his component was still _amused_ inside his mind and refused to tell him, or the others, why he was like that. Another component snorted, one was quiet, the other two didn’t have their minds in here.

Maybe he could think of anything else. Like how he’d destroy a city with a huge swarm of crabs and how the puny humans would scream for their lives. Now that was amusing for him.

“Soundwave: sure Ravage will be spotted soon.” Soundwave said with a small laugh beside him. “Ravage: fit for spying, but tends to chase own tail.”

He looked down, and rumbled a small laugh with the blue Con.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ons has a mission with Soundwave! …sort of

“The fuck are we doing here again, Ons?” Vortex nudged his shoulder.

Onslaught put as much venom into his words as he could, trying not to growl. “Watch your glossa, Vortex!” He waved his field in a threatening manner, then took a _very_ careful step on the swamp below. Based on his experiences, this kind of terrain tended to betray him. Too bad Blast Off was still recovering, and no matter how many times had Hook denied the helicopter to come along, he didn’t listen. “Didn’t you hear in the briefing? Oh wait, you _were not_ there!”

It was nearly half a day that he’d been here and they still couldn’t find whatever… creature they were looking for, fraggit. Onslaught wanted nothing more than just to go to the base and snuggle on his berth, preferably with Blast Off. His chest hurt, his thoughts were becoming foggy, and he cursed himself for not drinking his morning ration earlier.

“Okay, lemme say it again.” The copter giggled, “Oh, Commander Onslaught, my great, skilful, _tough_ boss, I apologize for having been too busy and not been able to attend the briefing. What is it that we are doing here?”

This time, Onslaught did growl. He turned and punched Vortex in the face, making the copter stumble forward and then landed on the swamp with his mask dented. The local wildlife shouted and scrambled away, leaves falling from the trees. And he made sure kick him in the crotch, then turned again and continued his way. “Be thankful that we weren’t in the base. If we were, you would end up in the medbay again. And remember that it was _your_ idea to come along.”

However, looking at Vortex, he felt a little guilty for wanting to go to the base. The copter was in a worse condition compared to himself. He had only one patch on his chest, but Vortex had several in his arms, chest, and leg, and he didn’t seem to be bothered by them. But then, Vortex’s damages were mainly cosmetics, aside from a blast to his left arm, while he had gotten a shot to the chest. Or maybe it was just that the helicopter didn’t even _care_ about his own condition.

Vortex giggled—of course he would—and let himself sink into the watery surface. The truck ignored him, the helicopter would follow him later. Or it would be better if he wouldn’t and instead went back to the base.

 _“Are we in position yet?”_ He asked Soundwave over the comm.

 _‘Negative._ _’_ Came the reply. _‘A few kilometres more to the north._ _’_

Ons nodded internally and looked forward. But seriously, _why_ did he have to go to Borneo again? Shouldn’t this kind of thing be given to the Seekers, or even, Soundwave and his minicons?

Well, Soundwave was in this mission with him—sort of, he was monitoring them from the base, so there went that.

What did they have to do with giant lizard monster anyway? What, the Decepticons wanted to _tame_ it? To use it as a weapon?

Sometimes, Megatron was just too—he stopped his thoughts there before the loyalty program kicked his mind.

He walked slowly again, and felt glad when _finally_ he could see solid ground a few metres from him. He took a few steps again, then he felt the water rippled of his feet, then he heard Vortex standing up behind him. A local primate halted in front of him, looking at him curiously. He just sighed and shooed it away.

Heh, he remembered having a shipment like this with Blast Off before the war.

Vortex then suddenly stood still. There were no longer ripples on the water, Ons ignored it and continued walking, only to be stopped when the copter held him tightly on the back. “Did you hear that?”

“Get” he took Vortex’s hand and snatched it away roughly, not even caring about the fear in the other’s field. “ _off_ me!”

Vortex whined and held his arm instead. “Oons! Did you hear that?! It’s creepy!”

He turned around, “What is ‘it’?!”

Then he realised that everything had become quiet. There was no more sound from the trees. The water had also become cautiously still. The leaves falling from the tree only added to the sudden change in the situation. Vortex clung to him tightly, visor never leaving the trees.

Onslaught looked up, the sun was shining atop of them, but there were nearly _no_ animal on the trees. He had seen a few monkeys, birds, snakes, even _insects_. Why did they leave in such a hurry? Was there something?

_Frag me for being distracted._

He carefully listened to the noises, the sounds of falling leaves and the wind. He didn’t hear anything.

“What did you hear, Vortex?” he asked, almost whispering.

“I don’t know! It was like a… a roar or something!”

Cringing to himself, he contacted Soundwave. _“Is there something near us?”_

He heard some beeps and buttons pressed, then Soundwave replied. _‘Negative. Nothing in 5 kilometres radius.’_

Onslaught extended the range of the small scanner in his hand and quirked his ridge. There was _nothing_ in 700 metres radius.

What kind of Earth animal whose sound could be heard from up to 5 kilometres away? Perhaps it was the lizard they were looking for?

“Vortex.” He turned, ignoring the grip the other still had on his arm or the fearful field he was waving. The truck pulled his own tight to his frame. “From where did you hear it?”

The copter looked around and pointed to the direction of a tree on his left while Onslaught followed his gaze. “From there.”

Ons looked there, but there was nothing suspicious, except the lack of the wildlife.

As to confirm Vortex’s words, the same roar escaped again from the same direction, echoing around them. The truck went still, his field waved with surprise, while Vortex crouched, tightened his grip on the truck’s arm, and pulsed his field erratically. Vortex wasn’t joking, it was _loud_. Why did he not notice it earlier? After that, everything went silent, awfully silent.

Behind his mask, Onslaught cringed. He contacted Soundwave again, _“Commander, did you hear that?”_

Soundwave was silent. The truck thought his comm was off until he replied. _‘Negative. What was it?’_

__

_“Haven’t you been listening to us? How could you not hear it?”_

__

_‘Soundwave: not understand.’_ Somehow, the tapedeck seemed uncertain. _‘Will investigate and tr—’_

__

The abrupt cut of the sentence made the truck feel a little disturbed. He heard some more beeps, and when Soundwave spoke again, he seemed to be in the same mood.

__

_‘Movement: detected in 4 kilometres 340 metres radius. Object: completely unknown.’_

__

Vortex whimpered; Onslaught’s field expanded in alarm. Completely unknown? How could something have escaped Soundwave’s eyes?! That thing was… _creepy_.

__

Maybe it was that giant lizard they were looking for; if it were, Megatron’s choice wasn’t a total waste, then. But how would he bring it to the base?

__

_“Commander,”_ He stared in distress at the direction Vortex pointed. _“is there any explanation about the object that we need to know?”_

__

_‘Nothing to explain.’_ The tapedeck replied, then paused, then continued hastily. _‘Update: object is moving at approximately 200 metres per second away from Onslaught’s position.’_

__

He frowned and contacted Soundwave. _“Change of plan. I’m going to follow the unidentified object. Keep us updated.”_

__

_‘Acknowledged.’_

__

Vortex tugged his arm. “But, Oons! It’s creepy!”

__

He sighed. “Stop being a knob and let go of my arm, Vortex.”

__

The copter let go of the arm, but still crouching near him. “That’s harsh, even from you.”

__

“Shut up.” Then he began walking in the direction.

__

On the good side of things, they finally have a clue to the creature’s position in this Primus-forsaken swamp. On the bad side, he had to ‘crawl’ through the swamp again. So much for solid ground.

__

He pushed Vortex to the front and, when the copter threw him a puzzled look, he simply signalled him to lead the way. At least Vortex couldn’t see him while he opened his mask and allowed his emotions to show on his tired face.

__

When Vortex was about to turn his head back, he barked. “Don’t look back!”

__

The other did so. “So, um, why are we going in this direction again?”

__

“Because I’m sure you’d be _overjoyed_ when we found the creature.” He snorted, carefully calculating each step he took. “And I’m sure you’ll have a new toy to play, won’t you?”

__

“Nah, gonna test it first. If it’s no fun, then no.”

__

“That’s honest, coming from you.” He was in no mood for Vortex’s game.

__

“Ah, really? Didn’t think you’d fall for my honesty.”

__

He snorted. “Like I ever care anyway.”

__

“Usually you rub your hands on my ass and you never complain.” Vortex wriggled his hips as he spoke.

__

Ons rolled his optics behind his visor. “I’d prefer getting my hands burned rather to touching your ‘ass’.” He looked to his surroundings, it was still quiet, and no animal was within sight. It was still a bit creepy.

__

“But Blast Off seems to have second thought,” he paused to test the water, then went straight ahead, his rotors vibrating. “especially since he can’t stop staring at my rotors.”

__

“What does Blast Off have to do with this?”

__

“Eh, nothing.” Vortex shrugged. “Just that you and Blasty seem very close.”

__

“Oh and you’re what? Jealous?”

__

“You really want to know?”

__

The truck snorted. “Do I really want to know?”

__

“Probably yes.” Vortex’s smirk was audible in his voice. “You’ve been staring at my rotors, no?”

__

“That’s a pretty wild claim. I’m not ‘helisexual’.”

__

“Helisexual?” Vortex wanted to turn his head around, but the truck’s hand was faster to avoid him. “Did you just make up that word?”

__

“It’s a real word, casually speaking anyway. Look it up.”

__

“You’re the nerd, you look it up. Humans are such a creative little fleshies. Oh hey, are ‘trucksexual’ and ‘shuttlesexual’ words too? Why don’t you want me to turn around anyway?” Vortex asked him, hands in the air in a questioning manner.

__

“I don’t want you to.”

__

“For such a tough dude, you’re not that tough to touching.” The copter shrugged.

__

Onslaught nearly growled, feeling offended by the previous words. “I see that you’ve lost your panic attack earlier.”

__

“Oh, really? I didn’t notice.” Vortex chuckled carelessly. “Oh hey, solid ground.”

__

_Thank Primus,_ Onslaught sighed in relief. Finally, he could step on a surface that wasn’t going to betray him.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a personal headcanon that despite his toughness, harshness, and sense of ‘I’m very serious’ and ‘my plans are absolute’, Ons actually very touchy-feely when he’s alone or with the person he’s comfortable with, and likes to snuggle and hug. SO LET THAT IMAGE OF ONS AND BOFF SNUGGLING EACH OTHER IN THE MORNING BURN INTO YOUR HEADS especially after taao #10


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundwave masturbates again :v  
> I lost the link to the prompt I was filling, so I think I’m going to do this independently.  
> 

Whatever the monster was… it was apparently very good at playing hide-and-seek, or leading them somewhere, and making Onslaught’s already bad mood worse. Except, no, it couldn’t be leading them somewhere, the pattern was random, and it did not resemble a path or circle. He could swear he had walked in this particular area of the swamp thrice! Maybe there were more than one monsters? Possibly, but the roars were so similar it couldn’t have been coming from different individuals.

“Chill out, boss. You can stare at my aft longer.”

And Vortex only made everything even worse.

Onslaught, grumpy as he was, spent most of his time talking to Soundwave to _at least_ hold himself back not to punch Vortex in the face, then in the chest, then stick him on a tree trunk, and then kick him again.

_Calm down, calm down, it isn’t your first time doing a recon with Vortex._

But afterwards he always had someone to shoot to channel his frustration, dammit. It wasn’t like he could shoot the trees! And back then, his overall condition wasn’t as bad as this, and there was also Blast Off, most of the time.

He knew he had to focus but couldn’t bring himself to care if he wasn’t focused while he was talking with Soundwave about things he didn’t care what they were as long as it wasn’t Vortex and it could make him stay sane _dammit!_

He sighed deeply against the tree he’d been leaning on, his field rolled over. Vortex was, fortunately, doing something stupid to the trees quite far behind him. By now he didn’t care if Vortex saw his tired face, the copter also did the same anyway. But, unlike him, Vortex stupidly did something “to make himself no longer tired”. The truck was sure the copter would be visiting the medbay first when they went back to base.

Surprisingly, having a conversation with Soundwave wasn’t as… boring as he previously thought. Well, yes, his words were monotone and his answers were quite straightforward, but Onslaught had been surprised by the way Soundwave managed to convey emotions through his monotone voice. He was also cultured; well, it wasn’t much of a surprise, but still he didn’t think that anyone besides Blast Off and maybe the Constructicons knew anything about culture. They talked about everything not related to the Decepticons or Autobots for obvious reasons and that they didn’t particularly like to talk about it.

_‘Onslaught: has a point. Vosian eating ritual: the most complicated yet the most delicious eating ritual.’_

Ons smiled involuntarily. _“One should say that, given how much time it needs to make the food until it’s served on the table and the do’s and don’ts to eat. It seems so delicious I just want to eat it. Have you ever had one, by the way?”_

_‘Soundwave: had one.’_ He heard a strange noise that seemed to be the tapedeck’s small laugh or chuckle. _‘Starscream: once invited Soundwave and Megatron to a Vosian dinner session to discuss strategies.’_

_“So, how was it?”_ Onslaught asked, looking briefly at Vortex who was chasing a lizard. _“Did you manage to eat a piece of each food served?”_

_‘Negative_ _.’_ He heard some more strange noises. _‘Food: too many. Soundwave: not liking crystalline soup.’_

_“Yeah. Blast Off made one of those once and I found out that I didn’t particularly like it. It tastes weird, and the crystals make it worse for being too hard.”_

_‘Onslaught: not liking crystals?’_

The truck sighed softly. _“No, not like that. I don’t like all kinds of crystals, just some of them, but in this case, combining crystals with the thick liquid of Vosian soup just doesn’t go well to my taste.”_

Soundwave chuckled lowly. _‘Soundwave: thought Onslaught has sweet tooth.’_

_“Oh? How come? Who doesn’t anyway? I’m not_ that _fond of sweeties, but I like them nonetheless.”_

_‘Soundwave: not quite liking sweeties, but sometimes they taste good.’_

_“Well, you’re not alone.”_ Onslaught stood up. _“Anyway, commander, where should we go next? The creature’s sound is no longer audible and we’ve reached the coordinates where it’s been heard a few minutes ago.”_

Some beeps and sounds from the console, then the tapedeck spoke again. _‘Mission: over for now. Megatron: said that mission is low priority. Onslaught and Vortex: allowed to go back to base.’_

_“Finally.”_ He sighed tiredly, rolling his frame to ease his joints, his field rolling slowly and he clamped it close to his frame. “Vortex? Where are you? We’re heading back.” He put his mask back on. _“Oh, and commander?”_

_‘Yes?’_

_“We might need the medbay prepared when we return.”_

* * *

Soundwave had, inevitably, got horny.

Really, he had only prepared himself for a mission with Onslaught on the other end of the comm. He wasn’t prepared for… nearly an hour of hearing Onslaught’s voice, just for him. Of course he had reasons to get horny.

Trying not to let Onslaught know that was its own story, but trying not to keep the _entire_ bridge know about that was another story.

The communication line was monitored, but it wasn’t a big deal since he was the one who was in charge of it anyway. However, he must _not_ allow anyone on the bridge know about his little heat problem. There were Megatron, Starscream, and Thundercracker on the command area, and some more on the levels below. Even moving his leg would be noticed.

However, stealth and unreadableness were his specialities. He had once managed to stand beside Megatron for hours without him knowing, so this wouldn’t be so hard, would it?

When they started to speak freely, outside of the mission, the tapedeck had been so mesmerised by the other’s voice. And that little pool of heat had gotten bigger when the truck laughed softly (he decided that he liked his laugh). And it had gotten even worse when the truck lowered his already rough voice out of tiredness. Soundwave squirmed a few times on the seat, lubricants starting to pool inside his valve and his spike demanding to be released while his field rolling in horniness. He tried not to wriggle too much in fear anybody noticing, so he was glad, _glad_ , when Megatron said the mission is over and Onslaught could return. To be honest, he was also worried about the truck’s condition, having been released from the medbay only two weeks ago.

Well, he also enjoyed the talk with Onslaught… the real talk of course, not the fact that the truck’s voice was doing something inappropriate to his groin area. It had been pleasant, he hadn’t been prepared when they began to talk about small things. Onslaught said it was because he needed something to distract him from Vortex, but he didn’t care whatever the reason was as long as he could have a talk about Kaon’s literature before the war. That itself was rare. Also, he learnt some things about the truck, like the fact that he didn’t like sweets too much, or that Blast Off and him were, apparently, very close. A few times he had been able to control himself, but that control had been lost multiple times when he lowered his voice.

This is wrong, he told himself. He shouldn’t have gotten horny just by hearing the other’s voice. It had been a miracle his voice had not wavered while he was talking to him, save from some small whimpers that he hoped Onslaught got it wrong or didn’t understand.

Did he really have a thing with voices?

He recorded the communication channel the entire time and copied it to a datapad when they were done and the channel was closed. After telling his lord that he was going back to his quarter and informing Scrapper about the medbay, he went straight to his room on his quarter and locked the door, posted a status that he was busy, and copied the datapad content to his console.

He lay on his berth, unplugged the datapad when it was done copying, set the audio only to himself, and opened his mask to help his frame ventilating.

Damn, he had never been this horny just by hearing someone’s voice, not even Tarn’s!

The first touches were tentative; he wasn’t so sure of this but all the things had been left out of the door anyway so he slowly traced his upper frame, holding back a moan while his field freely expanding.

_Didn’t it originally come from Iacon?_

The tapedeck’s hand travelled lower to his abdomen and his sides, teasing the sensors there. They were so soft, like a lover’s touch while in reality he wasn’t so sure how would Ons played his fingers. Hard? Softly?

The image of Onslaught looming above him suddenly appeared in his mind and he was helpless to ignore it.

Onslaught without his mask then whispered to him _Did you know that Kaone art is so beautifully designed? Each piece of art is like a masterpiece_ and he chuckled.

Soundwave moaned, his panel already begging to be opened. His spike was hard, his valve was pooling.

The truck lowered his voice and his face until they were centimetres apart and _smirked._

_Kaone art is one of the most_ beautiful _art I have ever seen._

No, not that part!

Soundwave whimpered,

“Soundwave: a piece of Kaone art!”

_Is that so? Hmm._ Onslaught caressed his panel, silently demanding him to open it.

The tapedeck obeyed without second thought.

His—Onslaught’s hand took it and began pumping it slowly. Soundwave threw his head back and allowed Onslaught to nibble at his neck and chest while he was whimpering.

_It’s beautiful, is it not?_

Soundwave felt the hand on his spike become harder and faster, his own ventilation getting ragged and heavy. Damn damn he should be able to last longer!

_Onslaught: too fast!_

_But that’s part of the charm, no?_ Onslaught chuckled. _It seems so delicious I just want…_

Soundwave gulped, and ventilated heavily.

_…to eat it._

He then moaned.

Onslaught then shifted and straddled him, opening his valve cover while still wearing that _smirk_ on his face and inserting two fingers there. Soundwave braced himself for what was about to come.

_Finally._

The truck took hold of his spike lowered his big frame unto it and _oh primus it was warm_. Soundwave moaned loudly and unconsciously thrust upward to get more of that inviting tightness.

He heard Onslaught chuckled.

He rocked his hips as the truck rode his spike. Ons’ hand held his chest, holding him in place. He wasn’t gentle; he rode the tapedeck’s spike as if their lives depended on it and _oh frag he was close_.

They had barely got started and he was this close?

The recording had stopped a few moments ago and he only wanted to touch the truck, to lay his hands on that wide chest and strong shoulder, to kiss that unhealthily handsome face, and get himself deeper. Too bad he was taking control now, Soundwave wouldn’t mind taking control the next time.

He wished there would be a next time.

Hastily, he started the recording again and played his favourite part.

_It tastes good, isn’t it? Makes you want to have it again._

He moaned for the umpteenth time that evening, and his whole frame trembled as he came, his hands tightening. His field wrecked, a mess. Spurts of transfluid splattered on his chest and abdomen, some reached his face.

That imaginary Onslaught dissipated, and he lay there, ventilating heavily to cool his overworked system. He ignored the transfluid for the moment and simply stared at the grey ceiling.

How had he gotten himself into this mess, he didn’t know. But, eh, for now he didn’t care. It might not have been like what he had thought, that he would forget about the truck for the weeks after and they would continue their own lives.

Which made him wonder, was Onslaught still thinking about him until now? If he were, and Soundwave was feeling bold this time, he’d give him a very good time for the both of them.

Really, though, he should kidnap the truck and frag him until he couldn’t walk for a month. Or the other way around… er, the fragging part, not the kidnap part.

He didn’t really think he’d protest for being kidnapped by him, though.

Suddenly, a knock came from behind his door. “Boss, you okay? You’ve posted that you’re busy?”

_Kkzztt._ He started his vocaliser again. “Soundwave: okay. Work: a lot.”

“O…kay then. Frenzy’s messing with ‘Beak again.”

He sighed. Clean-up first, regrets later. Preferably next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Soundwave. I couldn’t even write the masturbating part without feeling guilty and sorry for him wkwkwk anyway, now they’re even.


	9. Chapter 9

Onslaught was sated.

His frame was warm, his mind was fuzzy. He didn't quite remember what happened in the last two hours. What he did remember was that he'd been in his room, imagining things he should not be imagining, then Blast Off went inside, and they had posted status that they were busy.

Heh, it had been quite intense.

He looked up to the sleeping shuttle in his arms; Blast Off always looked young and carefree whenever he was sleeping without his mask. Their fields were let free, slowly tumbling and rolling into each other. The truck traced a finger down his chest slowly, down to his abdomen, and repeated the motion in circles. The shuttle had always been easy to wake up even by the smallest of noise or touch, but he knew that Blast Off had already woken up anyway.

The shuttle only let a few mechs to touch him. Especially when he was at his most vulnerable like this.

Too bad they had a training session.

“Get up.” He spoke in a rough voice. “It’s nearly 1545. We have to prepare for training.”

Blast Off only groaned, covering his face with his arm, a touch of annoyance appeared in his field.

Onslaught chuckled and got up. “I expect you to be on time.”

He heard Blast Off grumbled ‘fine’, then he went to the shooting range.

* * *

The truck walked slowly on the _Victory_ ’s corridors, taking his time. It wasn’t often his mood felt this good and he didn’t want to ruin it. Blast Off might be late, that was fine. Heck, he would even tolerate if Swindle or Vortex came late, or even did not show up at all. Some time alone at the shooting range, just shooting and not thinking of anything, would be a very nice activity for him.

Brawl wouldn’t be around for this training session, Onslaught mused. He was on a mission with Blitzwing and Astrotrain on the other side of the planet. That did not necessarily be a bad thing, considering what kind of exercise they were about to do.

But, heh, Brawl could miss the fun anyway. Being stuck inside Astrotrain was not quite as enjoyable.

He heard some steps walking towards him. He looked up, and found Soundwave.

He grinned behind his mask.

Somehow, the tapedeck seemed to be in a good mood, or he had been until visor glowed slightly, indicating his surprise. Surprising him had been a lot of fun lately and it really amused the truck.

Providing they were only in each other’s company of course.

“Hey, Commander.” He greeted him, not really caring that his own mood seeping in his voice or in his field. “It was a great mission we had, wasn’t it?” he smirked behind his mask.

Soundwave fidgeted, and Onslaught chuckled, if not laughed.

The tapedeck had been acting weird lately, heck, even before then, but it was amusing.

“I would prefer to be back in the ship, though.” His visor brightened a bit and he looked away, trying to redirect his mind from last night. “Vortex wasn’t exactly a preferable mech to partner with.”

“Work: a lot.” The tapedeck simply replied.

“Yeah, it’s a lot of work.” Ons scratched the back of his neck. “How about drinking tomorrow night? I’d really like tonight but I have some paperwork to do.”

Soundwave stared at him, visor radiating surprise again. Then he nodded. “Invitation: accepted. Place?”

The truck shrugged. “How about my quarter? I’ve got some spare high-grades. Vortex doesn’t need one because he’s been such a stupid wanker these days.”

Soundwave emitted some strange sounds, then Onslaught laughed a bit.

“Work’s been tiring, eh?” He smirked behind his mask, then walked forward and put his hand on the other’s shoulder, sensing the other’s tightly kept field. “Go get some rest first.” Then he walked away.

He felt the tapedeck’s heavy gaze on his back, but he just shrugged it off. Soundwave had been amusing.

* * *

Sometimes, he wondered whether Soundwave thought of him. He admitted, his mind sometimes wondered to all things Soundwave-y and they had been distractions. Very nice distractions, but distractions nonetheless.

Like this afternoon, for some weird reason, he and Blast Off fragged, but he was thinking about the TIC. He knew that it wouldn’t be a good thing if he knew, not because the shuttle was possessive, but because it wasn’t like Ons to think about anything else at any given moment and the shuttle knew that as well. Eventually though, he focused on fragging Blast Off until the next few hours became blurred.

He pointed his turret at the target and shot. Blast Off was late, Swindle and Vortex too. It was 1507 and they still didn’t show up. Ah, no matter, he’d let it slide this time. Besides, burning the charge alone was a really nice activity to do.

Transforming to truck mode, he drove to the next shooting point and shot. His side aim had been improving lately. Training to aim to his side whilst driving had been hard, but the results were worth it. He was really looking forward to using this improved ability of his to blast some Autobot. He drove again to the last shooting point and shot all the targets without missing.

He transformed back to root mode, smirk behind his mask, and set up new targets.

“You seem amused.”

He looked behind him. Blast Off was walking to the shooting area, his mask still open. He grinned, “So are you.”

The shuttle snorted. “It wasn’t my fault, though, was it?”

Onslaught only grinned behind his mask.

“Sorry for being late, though.” continued Blast Off.

“It’s fine.” The truck walked back to the shooting area. “I don’t think we’ll have exercise today. Swindle and Vortex are too late.”

“They’re occupied somewhere else.”

“Occupied?”

“ _That_ kind of occupied.”

Ons stared at him, then he snickered and nudged him on the shoulder.

Blast Off moved away and cleaned up the non-existent dust off his shoulder. “Stop that. I don’t want to be occupied.”

The truck laughed.

“Really though, stop that.” The shuttle sighed and leant back on the wall. “Don’t you have those reports you want to check?”

“Nope. We have three hours to ourselves.”

“We?”

“Yes, we.” Onslaught shot the target, then smirked at Blast Off. “Including _if_ we want to get _occupied_.”

Blast Off rolled his optics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there will be longer chapters after this I swear


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is supposed to be rather Onslaught-centric, but Soundwave is just too cute I cannot hold myself not to write him XD  
> Damn getting Soundwave drunk is not an easy task.

Soundwave was walking down the corridor slowly. His mind was erratic inside his indifferent demeanour. Onslaught had invited him to some drink, in _his_ quarter. With high-grade. His mind was too busy thinking about what might happen.

Really, what might happen?

The Combaticons’ quarter wasn’t that far, it was just on the lower level, down the corridor on the personal quarters section, first door on the left, and it was the second door from the entrance. Onslaught forgot to tell him where it actually was but he found it easily on the ship floor plan files anyway.

He wouldn’t want to say that he _prepared_ for this… er, occasion. Sure, he polished his armour, re-polished it again, and made sure that he looked fine. More than fine. His room was clean, his entire quarter was clean. He didn’t want it to be messy when he was done with whatever they were going to do.

Nervously climbing down the stairs, he passed over a few cons who gave him some looks, but they shrugged it off and continued walking. They were a bit bewildered why was he here, it wasn’t usual for a high-ranking officer to be on this level. Most of them thought it wasn’t their business and Soundwave was glad.

When he finally reached his destination, he exvented, and knocked the door to the Combaticons’ quarter.

The door opened with a swoosh, and Blast Off appeared on the other side.

“Commander Soundwave.” He said politely in a smooth voice. Soundwave cringed internally at his surprise. “Can I help you?”

Onslaught didn’t tell him? “Soundwave: wish to see Onslaught.”

The shuttle nodded. “Onslaught is busy in the office, but I don’t think he’s doing anything important anyway.”

He fidgeted. “Onslaught: invited Soundwave.”

“Oh, I see.” Blast Off moved to make room for Soundwave. “The office is the only door on the left after that corridor.”

The tapedeck nodded and went inside. Blast Off was confused and sceptical, but he did a good job hiding it. The shuttle really did a good job of being indifferent on the outside.

When he was outside the truck’s office, he debated whether to ping him using his comm or to knock. He doubted the truck would appreciate the former because he didn’t give him his comm number, so he knocked softly on the door.

The answer was instantaneous. “Enter. It’s not locked.”

Soundwave shuddered at the heavy voice, and slid open the door.

Onslaught’s office was tidy, he expected that well, but there were some papers and a datapad that were in the corners (since when did they have paper?) and his desk was empty, save some cubes and a bottle of what looks like a _very fine_ high-grade on it. On the seat on the other side of the desk sat the truck, apparently quite drunk, with his mask open. A cube was on the desk and another one was in his hand. A tell-tale smell of high-grade was in the air as well.

Soundwave gulped.

“Ah, Commander Soundwave. I was expecting you.” Ons wiggled the cube in his hand. “You took your time.”

“Work: a lot.” He simply answered, debating whether this was such a good idea or not. Standing stiffly on the door with his field clamped to his frame, he felt like he was out of place.

It seemed Onslaught thought this was a very great idea. “Yes, work. Wasn’t it our intention to just forget about work for a while and relax?”

Relax, yes. As if the truck did anything to help him relax.

“Here, commander, have a seat.” Ons continued, waving to the seat in front of the desk.

Soundwave moved, still too stiffly, and sat on the seat. He let—forced might be more accurate—himself to just relax and lie on the chair comfortably. He noted that there was no sign of repair on the truck’s frame. It seemed like the damage on his chest was fully repaired, and Hook had uninstalled the patch. That was very much appreciated.

He didn’t remember Onslaught being tired from work these days, though. If only, he looked light-headed, often accompanied by _very_ lewd thoughts of him. Like now. Just in front of him, he could _clearly_ read what was the truck thinking, and oh Primus in His Throne weren’t those thoughts excited and embarrassed him at the same time. He found himself unable to turn away from that stupidly handsome light grey-ish face (what colour was it again?), with those mesmerising lips that were still set in a grin, and from that hazy red visor that looked like it was looking at him but actually to what _might_ happen.

Soundwave nearly whimpered.

Onslaught put those thoughts aside and instead poured him the high-grade into a cube. “Here, have a cube.”

The strong but sweet smell of the high-grade was enough to tell him what it was. He accepted the cube politely, still didn’t miss the grin from the truck, then he analysed it for any drugs or additives or anything that could explain that stupid grin.

“Onslaught: from where gets Carpessian Forty-Two?”

“No, not Forty-Two.” He lay back on the seat, taking another sip from his cube. “Forty- _Three_. Obtained it from Swindle. Swindle got it from his business partner. Wanted to have it with Blast Off but we were busy doing something else.” That grin returned, accompanied by a chuckle. “Besides, Blast Off wasn’t in the mood for high-grades.”

Frag, frag, _frag_ , that wasn’t an image he wanted to see! Onslaught was enough, he didn’t need to conjure images about the shuttle as well! He shook his head, opened his mask, and took a sip from his cube to hide his embarrassment. Good thing he still had control of his field.

“Relax, Commander. It’s just us, and high-grade, tonight.” Ons took another sip from his cube. Primus knew how much had he taken before his arrival.

Nonetheless, relaxing had been his main objective tonight, so he decided to play along. Any eventuality would sort itself out later. Onslaught knew what he was doing; he wasn’t fully inebriated right now, just lightly. The Pit be damned if the tapedeck didn’t know what he himself was doing. He slowly let his field expanded just a bit; he still couldn’t feel the other’s, though. “Soundwave.” He took another sip from his cube, and swept his lips with the back of his palm. Strong stuff it was; his systems purred softly. and warmed slightly.

“Ah, I’m sorry, what was that?”

Soundwave lay on the chair, now fully savouring the high-grade. He wasn’t fully relaxed, but with the help of the high-grade, he was sure slowly getting it. The taste left in his mouth was pleasant, and his circuits tingled in content as he gulped it. “Just Soundwave. Tonight: no need for formalities.”

“Soundwave it is then.” The truck said it in a careful way, like he was enjoying the way it rolled from his glossa. Soundwave shrugged it off. “Tell me, Soundwave, why is such a pristine handsome face like yours covered with a mask all the time?”

Lame pick-up line, Soundwave chuckled, feeling nervous and a bit giddy at being called handsome. Had the truck been staring at him? He didn’t remember. What was inside the high-grade? “The same goes to Onslaught.”

“Oh? Feels good to be appreciated.”

The tapedeck let out a smile. “Onslaught: more than appreciated.”

“Hm?”

“Onslaught: did a lot of successful missions.”

The truck groaned, and Soundwave would be lying if that voice didn’t travel pleasantly across his frame. “Come _on_ , let’s forget about the missions.”

“Missions: important. Missions: made Onslaught important. Exclusive. Highly appreciated.” He took another sip. “Hard. Rugged. Unbreakable. _Desirable._ ”

That red visor stared at him, then chuckled softly. “I could hear you praising me all day. Most of the stuff you mentioned are merely exaggerations.” He put his cube on the desk, then put both his hands behind his head as a pillow. “Also, I thought I heard you said I’m desirable?”

Soundwave stared at the cocky yet wolfish grin on the other’s faceplate. He noticed that the visor was a tad brighter than usual. “Onslaught: found by a lot of mechs to be desirable.” Frag the reports, frag the missions, he enjoyed being here and didn’t regret any second of it.

“The same can also be said about you, _Commander Soundwave_.” The truck lowered his voice, and the thoughts that followed it made his panels to heat up a few notches, but Soundwave was perfectly content about it. It meant _he_ wasn’t the only one finding the other desirable and being bold about it. “I really am looking forward to having more missions with you.”

“Missions?”

“Missions.” Ons grinned, then his foot nudged the tapedeck’s under the desk, their fields finally touched each other, and he could feel the other’s amusement. Soundwave preferred to ignore it. “Anyway, let’s play a game.”

“A game?” Soundwave asked. He wouldn’t mind a game.

“I still have one set of _piryeta_ and it’s been a while since I played it.” Straightening up, he took his cube and sipped. “Last played it with Blast Off. Not many mechs here know how to play it. You know how to play it, don’t you?”

 _Piryeta_ seemed like a good idea. He hadn’t considered the fact that Onslaught might know some of Cybertronian board games; not many mechs know about them anyway since the Exodus. He took another sip from his half-empty cube. “Challenge: accepted. Winner: gets what?”

Onslaught’s wolfish grin returned. “The winner frags the loser.”

Soundwave chocked on his drink, surprised. Onslaught laughed, amusement colouring his field and it expanded large enough for the tapedeck to sense the arousal in it.

But he felt the same, if not a little less. The truck had been teasing him, either intentionally or unintentionally. He then looked at the cube in his hand, still avoiding that husky laugh that came from the other’s vocaliser. _This stuff really is strong, I didn_ _’_ _t even know when have I loosened up._

However, the question was, did his mind, his rational mind, want to? He wasn’t sure whether it was the high-grade or the damn hunk of a tease in front of him or the combination of both that made his mind go hazy so quickly. He didn’t want to this to become one of those regretful evenings where his body acted instead of his mind, even though his partner this time was this teasing.

Ons seemed honest enough, and Primus had the truck been this easy to read? Or maybe his senses had become rather disoriented until he couldn’t read the lower layers of the other’s intentions?

If he had any.

Soundwave nervously took another sip, visibly shuddered at another wave of lust in the other’s field, then looked at Onslaught. The truck was still laughing, more softly this time, and he too took another sip of his own cube. “Commander, have I told you how irresistible sometimes could you be?” He smiled in his most charming smile.

The tapedeck nearly fell for it. Instead he took another sip to hide his embarrassment and said, “ _Piryeta_ : when will play?”

“Ah, yes. Let me get it first.” Ons stood up, and walked to the other side of the room to get the board game. Soundwave had a hard time not to stare at that _very fine_ frame the other possessed. Those broad strong shoulders to those fairly narrow waist and hips, and downwards to very strong-looking legs. Really, sometimes he wished for another, bulkier frame. Not that he minded being a tapedeck, he knew he wasn’t bad-looking.

And yes it really was _a sight_ when he bent down to get to the lower shelves. “You’re really keen on playing, don’t you Soundwave?” he said in a rather suggestive tone. The TIC could practically hear him smirking mischievously.

Soundwave tried and failed miserably to snort.

Staring at the truck wouldn’t do him any good for now, so instead he studied the office.

Despite the minuscule mess, the office itself was tidy. Even the datapads in a wall compartment were conveniently organised. It was clean, minus the desk they were drinking on. There was a long sofa in a corner that he thought functioned as a waiting area. There was also another seat on the other side of the desk, seat? This is an office for two?

It then happened to him that the gestalts other than the Constructicons didn’t have sufficient room for them. He remembered that the Combaticon quarter, like the Stunticon’s, only had four rooms: two personal rooms, one common room, and one office. How they managed to get along with such limited about of space was a question for him, especially when he considered the fact that the Combaticons weren’t as fond of each other like the Stunticons. Even though Motormaster hit his team more often than actually necessary, they still see him as their leader, and heck, even Breakdown looked at him for protection.

The Combaticons, well, let’s just say that his theories were based on real observations and analyses.

He took a sip from his cube again, noticing that it was nearly finished.

He heard some grumbles and mumbles from the truck; he looked at his direction to find him looking in another shelves and drawers.

Onslaught was confused, that he knew. He stood up and looked at the drawers. “Looks like I forgot that I gave it to Vortex yesterday.” Then, he walked towards his seat and sat down, “Probably it’s in Vortex’s room, probably he took it with him. Believe it or not, Vortex knew how to play it, though he sucks.”

Soundwave believed him, he thought. Although he was psychopathic, the helicopter was a smart mech.

“Let’s play another game.” Onslaught smirked instead, and getting _too close_ to the tapedeck’s taste. He could smell the high-grade directly from the other’s mouth. How many had they taken again? “Let’s play ‘we frag each other’.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes finally it’s the pr0n and all the kinky stuff \/  
> I know this is stupid but if you’re not into these kinds of stuff please don’t read. I needed to do some “research” to properly write this.  
> Also, this turned out to be rather long I decided to split it into two parts.
> 
> I HAVE WRITTEN THIS ENTIRE BLOODY FIC UNTIL NOW AND I’VE JUST REMEMBERED THAT SOUNDWAVE HAS BUTTONS ON HIS CROTCH  
> let’s just pretend that he doesn’t have them, okay :’v

Onslaught now understood that Soundwave _had_ been imagining things about him too. He didn’t really think that tonight they’d frag. But five cubes of too-strong high-grade later—had it really been five cubes? He lost his count—they were both horny. Damn Swindle for getting the high-grade; he should get more of that.

He preferred his berth to his desk, but Blast Off could be in their room. Soundwave didn’t seem to mind anyway, judging by the way he squirmed in his chair every so often and the frequent lust he leaked in his field.

He poured the high-grade again to both their cubes. What were they going to do again? Ah yes.

Ons stood up from his seat, walking towards the other. Soundwave watched him with his overly bright visor. When they were close enough, he whispered. “Sure about this?”

“Action: irreversible.” The tapedeck replied, hands gripped the armrests. The lust in his field was too strong not to be noticed. “Onslaught: teasing.”

He laughed. “I better stop, don’t I?” he cupped Soundwave’s chin, then pulled him to a soft kiss. Their lips met, but nothing more than that, he pulled away.

The tapedeck’s reaction was more than amusing. Soundwave exvented, mouth opened a bit. Somewhere, someone’s cooling fans turned on. “Still teasing.” he said, voice raspy and staticky.

Onslaught sat on the other’s lap abruptly, earning a gasp from the tapedeck. “Whose fault is it?” and kissed him _hard_.

It wasn’t soft at all; they kissed like it was their last kiss ever. Ons’ hand took Soundwave’s head and deepened the kiss. Their glossae battled for domination, teeth gritting against each other as they grunted even harder. Soundwave’s hands gripped Ons’ sides, not daring to go further than that.

They kissed each other for so long until Onslaught pulled back, hands on the tapedeck’s shoulders. They were panting, their fields complete mess. Soundwave put his hand on the truck’s chest, his fans going faster. The truck chuckled slightly, it was a good thing that they weren’t that different in terms of height.

He yelped when suddenly the tapedeck pushed him flat onto the desk. Soundwave was panting heavily, heavier than he was and the arousal in his field was overwhelming. Onslaught stared at that darkened visor open-mouthed, surprised at the sudden show of strength. He knew the other was strong but not _that_ strong. The tapedeck had him pinned by one hand on the chest, his other hand caressed his face slowly.

Onslaught gulped.

“Onslaught: too much of a tease.” His visor brightened for a moment. “Soundwave: will show how to frag based on Onslaught’s imagination.”

The truck’s hands gripped the edge of the desk and smirked in anticipation. “You’re bad at bed talk.”

“Onslaught: has a creative imagination.”

“Creative imagination,” he chuckled. Then, he realised something. “Wait, how can you tell if I have a creative imagination? Does that mean you can read my mind?”

Soundwave nodded. “Statement: inaccurate. Reading minds: impolite. Onslaught’s mind: too free, too exposed.”

“So, those rumours are true. You’re not too fond on reading minds, but mine just happened to be too readable?”

The tapedeck nodded again, then Onslaught laughed. “Primus, I should’ve been more careful, shouldn’t I? Why have you never acted on it anyway?”

“Soundwave: not sure. Action could be undesired. Not wish to cause discomfort.”

“Discomfort is the last word I’d use to describe myself.” He chuckled, scratching his head. “Get these cubes and the bottle to the compartment. We don’t want to get them crushed.”

Soundwave was quick to move the stuff out of the desk. Their fields were let free, slowly tumbling to each other, sensing each other’s arousal and amusement. The truck propped himself on his elbows as the tapedeck moved the bottle and the cubes safely out of reach. When he was done, he quickly caught the truck in another hot kiss, this time bending forward to get a better access.

The truck noticed that, aside from his sides and chest, the tapedeck hadn’t touched his frame. Ooh, he was to change that. One of Ons’ hands found its way to the other’s aft, cupping it and giving it a firm squeeze. Soundwave jerked, grunted into the kiss, appreciating the touch.

Was Soundwave unsure? Or was he just being cautious? Or maybe he was holding back?

They released the kiss, and Onslaught grinned when he saw Soundwave’s face darkened in lust. “Do whatever you want with me.” he purred. “I don’t break easily… as you’ve known.”

Something clicked and whirred, and Ons nearly laughed when he saw Soundwave’s face turned into embarrassment. Apparently the tapedeck’s spike and presumably valve had come into view.

“Onslaught: teasing too much.”

The truck sat up, “I’m not teasing. I’m inviting.” He gently pushed Soundwave to sit on the seat behind him. “And now I’m tasting.”

Onslaught kneeled, and slowly wrapped his hand around that warm, blue and white rod, earning a gasp from its owner. He squeezed and pumped it, and when he put in in his mouth, Soundwave fragging _moaned_ , and it was much less monotone than his usual voice and _very_ arousing.

The truck felt Soundwave gripped his helm as he took the length, and those fingers trembled a bit when he took it all in his mouth. Internally, Ons grinned, and proceeded to suck him.

Soundwave tasted nice, his spike leaked even more as he sucked it. He looked up and saw the other’s flushed face staring at the table with very dim visor. He was tempted to take his visor off but if the tapedeck was enjoying seeing him with it then he’d gladly continue wearing it.

Besides, he knew he looked good with it.

Focusing on the spike in his mouth again, he closed his optics and moaned, earning another moan from the tapedeck. His free hand gripped the base of the shaft and gripped it.

Soundwave was nicely proportioned, he could take the entire length into his mouth with no difficulty, but he thought with the overwhelming lust in their fields, he wasn’t sure how long they could stand.

His other hand was finding its way to the tapedeck’s valve, and when it found it, Soundwave gasped. Frag, Soundwave was tight; he wondered how long had it been for the tapedeck. He sucked the spike and played with its tip, occasionally lapping the valve with his field. The spike convulsed, and then the tapedeck pulled him back, gasping for air.

A bit disappointed for being pulled back, he let go of the spike, leaving it coated in oral lubricants with a string to his grinning mouth. “I take it I’m good then.”

When he looked up at Soundwave’s darkened face with lust, his spike demanded even more to get out of its casing—oh yeah, he forgot about his own spike. He opened his own panel and set it free.

Soundwave, instead, pushed him back to the desk. He sat on it, then lay back, his gaze never leaving the overworking frame in front of him. To be honest, his systems were starting to overheat too, in a good way, and that image of the tapedeck _above_ him with that hazy red visor and his spike on view was nearly mouth-watering…

He chuckled softly. Had he really been this easy to rile up? He blamed the high-grade. But really, everyone always blamed the high-grade.

The tapedeck kissed him, his hands on the desk on both sides of him. Ons’ hands gripped his sides, then he propped himself on the elbows to allow for easier access. The kiss was slow, they tasted each other’s mouths and the taste of high-grade was thick. When they separated, Ons was sure that his face was as flushed as the other’s.

“Permission to appreciate Onslaught?” Soundwave asked, his visor brightened for a moment before dimming again.

Onslaught chuckled. Yep he was right about Soundwave being a good subordinate. “Permission given, with enthusiasm.”

Soundwave moved lower, nipping at his neck. He straddled the truck’s thighs, effectively rubbing his spike to the other’s. Onslaught moaned in apprehension and lay back again, his hand gripping both spikes in a slow and teasing motion.

Soundwave shuddered.

He moved lower again, trailing small kisses all over his chest. Well okay he knew his chest was broad but seeing Soundwave doing that made him self-conscious again at how broad it actually was. Maybe it was a nice change from Blast Off. Then Soundwave lifted both his arms, and his kisses trailed to them, left then right.

“Do you…” Ons gasped. “do you do this to all your berth partners?”

The tapedeck moved to his right audial, putting Ons’ arms above his head. “Megatron: sometimes likes to be appreciated.” He licked said audial. “Onslaught: not having the same preferences?”

“Hardly,” He moaned, then chuckled. “but that’s a mental image I wouldn’t want to remember.”

“Don’t remember. _Enjoy_.”

If it was impossible for the tapedeck to sound any erotic, well that was wrong. Onslaught moaned again at the voice right next to his audial, his field betraying him by showing how much arousal in it. Soundwave seemed to like the response, and travelled down to his abdomen. His hands gripped his hips while he continued his journey trailing kisses all over his front, and Onslaught propped himself again, satisfied by the amount of lust the other let out in his field, as much as him, apparently.

Soundwave took hold of his thighs while lapping the precum he leaked on his midsection. He caressed the insides of the thighs softly and Onslaught quivered, biting his lips in anticipation of what was about to come.

He heard Soundwave pulled the seat from behind him and sat. The tapedeck took hold of his spike with a near-full grin on his face and _well wasn’t that a nice view._

“Onslaught: moan.”

Onslaught moaned and his head lolled back; Soundwave took his length almost entirely in one go. Damn, he was too sensitive, wasn’t he? The charge travelled his frame quickly and built up nicely. And really, Soundwave needed two hands to fully grip his spike and he was taking nearly the entire length of it to his mouth in an instant. He slowly thrusted his hips into that inviting warmth, wanting more of it.

“Onslaught: big.” He said when he let the spike go to catch his breath.

“Just so you know, yours is only a little bit smaller than me.”

Soundwave licked his lips. “Soundwave: not complaining.” Then he licked the spike again. up and down before taking it again. The truck exvented heavily as Soundwave sucked his spike, occasionally playing with his tongue and deep-throated him. He watched him with dim visor, mouth open to help ventilate. The tapedeck was moving up and down vigorously, his hands on both sides of his aft. Frag, he was close; he’d never gotten off so easily just by a blowjob.

Wait, there was that time with Blast Off. And Vortex. And Blast Off again.

Primus, Soundwave was good! Maybe he had had a lot of experience, Onslaught didn’t know and honestly didn’t really care. Soundwave seemed to know that he was close; he slowed down moving and licked the underside of his spike sloppily, as if tasting every centimetre of it. Onslaught nearly whimpered when Soundwave lapped the slit of his spike, and the Well knew just where did all his precum go.

A finger nudged its way into his valve cover, tapping it in invitation, and he opened the cover with a click. He then gasped when it went inside, probing and teasing just the right exterior sensors. When he heard wet squelching sounds and the finger joined by another one, he flustered. He must’ve been ignoring his leaking valve. The very dirty sound was accompanied by very pleasant sensation until he couldn’t bring himself to care, though.

Soundwave sucked his spike hard and lapped the head, and it was enough to nearly push him to the edge. Ons’ ventilating became more rapid and his frame began to tense up. Just in time, the tapedeck pulled back and left him gasping heavily for air to cool down his too hot frame as he cooled down. The charge lowered again, slowly with those fingers still in his valve.

Onslaught lay back, pulling his right arm to cover his flustered face. Damn, that was rather fast. And just when he thought he could hold back any longer, those fingers were groping the inside of his valve, and the charge was building up again.

Mercifully, Soundwave pulled back. Onslaught allowed himself a small peek, then groaned when he saw the tapedeck lapped and licked his own fingers, tasting his lubricant. “That’s kinky…” he said nearly breathlessly, voice muffled by his arm.

“Delicious.” Soundwave chuckled. “Onslaught want a taste?”

“Am I rubbing off on you already?”

Soundwave laughed, then gripped Onslaught’s spike with his still wet hand. “Soundwave: tasting.” He turned down, and Ons thought he was going to suck him again before he felt wet glossa licked his valve. He shuddered at the unexpected intrusion, feeling the glossa slowly pushing into his entrance.

“…ooh that’s good.” He gasped, and gripped the edge of the desk, his field pulsated strongly only to blend into the tapedeck’s. Soundwave finally put his glossa inside, lapping at the sensor _just_ right, making his charge go up again. The sound it made was too embarrassing, but Soundwave didn’t seem to care.

Onslaught moaned as the other hummed into his valve, making nice vibrations inside. He bit the inside of his mouth, frag, Soundwave was enjoying himself too much. His spike, still in the other’s hold, twitched and leaked transfluid into the hand. Soundwave used it as a lubricant to ease his strokes, up and down.

The desk creaked a bit in protest, but none of them paid any attention. Ons arched his back, his hand gripped the other’s head. His valve sang at the continued intrusion, the nodes set afire as Soundwave ventured deeper. He was sure there was a puddle under them.

Suddenly, Soundwave pulled back, leaving his spasming valve open. Onslaught in-vented, staring at the ceiling with hazy optics and dewy visor. That was close, but also not close enough.

He looked down, and found the tapedeck staring at him with a flustered face. He grinned as he felt the hunger in the other’s field, but then yelped when Soundwave lunged forward and kissed him suddenly. He felt something rubbing on his valve and he moaned into the kiss.

Pulling back, Soundwave gasped. “Soundwave: unable to hold back anymore.”

Ons snickered. “Go on, then. Don’t let me stop you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are highly appreciated! :D


End file.
